


Building Steam With A Grain Of Salt

by Miss_Vile



Series: Building Steam With A Grain Of Salt [5]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Breathplay, Declarations Of Love, Double Penetration, M/M, Rimming, Virus!Jim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26426563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile/pseuds/Miss_Vile
Summary: Jim found himself asking those same questions from inside that coffin. He no longer wanted to deny himself what he truly needed. Playing bounty hunter had only delayed the inevitable and left him hungry in more ways than one.Lee remained in Gotham and waited for Jim to give over to the virus. However, the conclusions that Jim came to hadn't met her expectations. After administering the prototype cure for the virus, he left her slumped over on the floor of her home and fled to his car.
Relationships: Jim Gordon/Edward Nygma, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma, Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon, Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon/Edward Nygma
Series: Building Steam With A Grain Of Salt [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661929
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46





	Building Steam With A Grain Of Salt

**Author's Note:**

> We're at the end of this little OT3 romp! I hadn't planned on making it a series after _Chemistry_ but it just kinda wrote itself and I couldn't stop. I posted it early over on [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/MissVileWrites) and if you wanna get early access to chapters and one-shots, give it a looksee!
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Your comments give me life and refill my fuel tanks for other projects so feel free to tell me what you think below.

Jim sped down Robinson Avenue.

Lee had been right. The virus brought out the darkness in those infected. It revealed that feral, ugly side of themselves— Like a wolf in moonlight.

In Lee, the virus perverted her love for him. She became obsessive. Volatile. 

_“It's pretty obvious when you think about it,”_ she had said, _“Perfect Dr. Lee Thompkins. Why would she be drawn to a man with so much darkness? Such an appetite for violence? Unless something inside her... liked it. Craved it. Needed it.”_

Jim found himself asking those same questions from inside that coffin. He no longer wanted to deny himself what he truly needed. Playing bounty hunter had only delayed the inevitable and left him hungry in more ways than one. 

After he allowed Oswald and Edward to brand him in such a way, he had no hope of ever returning to the GCPD. He couldn't face the disgusted stares and hateful remarks from the very people who once held him on a pedestal. They no longer saw him as the beacon of hope he purported to be and instead only saw the mangled remains of something pulled from the Penguin's teeth.

After the incident with Jervis Tetch, the Mayor and his Chief of Staff offered him a position at their sides. Jim, in an attempt to cling to the light, turned it down.

Lee remained in Gotham and waited for Jim to give over to the virus. However, the conclusions that Jim came to hadn't met her expectations. After administering the prototype cure for the virus, he left her slumped over on the floor of her home and fled to his car.

He arrived at the Mayor's mansion within the hour. The car window shattered when Jim slammed the door and marched up the steps. It was late enough in the evening that Olga had likely gone home, so Jim didn't bother knocking.

“Oswald!” Jim yelled too loudly, like the name had been torn from his throat. He was met in the foyer with the barrel of a gun.

“Hello, Jim,” Ed greeted him. The metallic green of his suit shimmered in the firelight like the carapace of a scarab, “Oswald isn't here.”

“Where is he?” Jim grit his teeth. The only thing preventing him from slamming Ed against the wall and marring that perfectly sculpted face with his teeth was the gun. 

“Our mayor is giving a statement for the cameras to help calm the chaos,” Ed explained, “Speaking of which, I heard you aren't feeling quite like yourself.”

Ed's teeth looked borderline frightening when he smiled. He took a step forward.

“You heard?” Jim looked up at him, rolling his shoulders back to appear taller.

“Oswald still has eyes and ears in the GCPD,” Ed said. He lowered the gun to his side and took another bold step towards the infected bounty hunter. Jim stumbled backward.

“S-Stay back.”

Ed sighed, set the gun on the desk beside him, and did the exact opposite of what Jim requested. This time, Jim didn't bother keeping him at arm's reach.

“You're still fighting it,” Ed said, running the pad of his thumb over the raised veins in Jim's face.

“I have to,” Jim hissed.

“No, you don't,” Ed's fingers slid under Jim's leather jacket and clutched at his shoulders, “Not with me. Not with us.”

With a deep growl, Jim barreled forward. Ed's head snapped backward from the force of Jim's shove and slammed against the wall. He blinked the pain away and grabbed Jim by the collar.

“If you really wanted to fight it, you wouldn't have come here.”

Jim snarled, practically blinded by the red in his vision, “This isn't who I am!”

“Are you so sure about that?” Ed smirked, “Oswald saw you, Jim. Just like he saw me. You're just too stubborn to accept it.”

Jim blinked, suddenly transported back to Ed's apartment. He smelled like mint and Oswald was looking at him, wrapping him in chains and laughing as he did.

“Face it, Jim,” Ed leaned forward, his hot breath ghosting over the blonde's ear, “You may be infected but the real virus coursing through your veins is Oswald.”

He held his breath as the sea of voices mocked him. The whispers crashed against the shores of his mind— a relentless torrent of want. A thirst for blood and power. He wanted feathers crammed down his throat while he desperately tried to answer riddles.

“You won't hurt us,” Ed kissed his neck.

“You don't _know_ that,” Jim growled, “You don't know what I'm capable of.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I'm a _monster,”_ Jim flinched at the word. The one thing he'd denied for so long despite all of the evidence to the contrary and one little virus made it all unravel.

“We're all monsters,” Ed's tone never changed and his lips never halted their exploration of his fevered skin.

“Dammit, Ed, this is _different,”_ he could feel the blood pool around his eyes, the edges of his vision blurred and red.

“You'll find a way to control this. You always find a way,” he smirked, “Because you're Jim Gordon. It's what you do.”

Jim stood there, helpless as Ed took his bottom lip between his teeth. The bounty hunter couldn't help but reciprocate the kiss. His knees felt weak and he shuddered at the idea of Ed accidentally getting blood in his mouth and then ripping him to shreds. The idea went straight o his groin.

“Also...” Ed tugged sharply at Jim's hair, causing him to growl and bare his teeth, “If I honestly thought for _one second_ that you were a danger to Oswald, I would have already killed you.”

Jim lifted Ed off of his feet and flung him across the room. Ed landed on the sofa which slid across the hardwood floor from Ed's sudden weight. He barely had time to orient himself before Jim was looming over him, his murderous fingers clasped tightly around Ed's neck.

“How do you know I won't kill you first?”

“Because...” Ed choked, “I'd like to think... that you care about me too.”

Jim felt his grip falter. His brow pinched tightly as he slowly pulled away and caressed Ed's cheek with his bruised knuckles. Ed's hand covered his own.

“You were the only one who didn't treat me like a nobody,” Ed's eyes were wet as he recalled the man he was all those years ago, “You saw value in me when no one else did. You humored my riddles, brought me coffee, and even kept me company when I refused to leave the lab late at night.”

Ed pulled him in closer. Jim straddled him and gripped the back of the sofa— white-knuckled. The man in green beneath him looked up at him with starry, wet eyes.

“You don't... You don't have to love me like you love Oswald. I wouldn't blame you if you did,” his hands cupped Jim's face as he stumbled over his words.

Jim opened his mouth slightly, unsure of what to say. He settled on the obvious and snarled, “You tried to kill me last time you and I were together.”

“Touché,” Ed chuckled, “Though, _to be fair,_ you weren't exactly being all that kind to us.”

“And that meant you had to kill me?” he raised an eyebrow.

“We're monsters, remember?”

Jim rolled his eyes but settled into his position in the other man's lap. Ed ran his hands over his muscular thighs and massaged the tension away. If it weren't for the persistent voices and the rush of angry blood in his ears, he might've been coaxed into sleep.

“How about I make it up to you,” Ed suggested with a wry smile.

“What did you have in mind?” Jim rolled his hips and delighted in the low moan it pulled out of Ed.

He groaned when he heard the _'click'_ of handcuffs. 

“Ed, not again,” he pulled his hands back and furrowed his brow when he saw that his hands weren't bound. He looked down and swallowed as he watched Ed loop the chain around the leg of an ornate desk next to the sofa. He secured the cuff around his wrists, looked up at Jim, and winked.

“Do you have the keys?” Jim asked, jangling the cuffs to check if they were secured.

“They're somewhere around here,” Ed shrugged.

His eyes trailed over Ed's body as he quivered in his skin. He tasted copper and felt like the inside of his skull was filled with hot tar. The back of his throat was thick which made him salivate like some feral thing.

“This is too dangerous,” his hands hovered in the air, unsure if they were going to grope at the willing man beneath him or tear him to pieces.

“Jim, look at me,” he demanded. When his lover complied, he continued, “I trust you. Besides, if you kill me, it'll probably be what I deserve anyway.”

“That and I would slit his throat,” a voice crooned from the hallway.

The two men turned toward the source and smiled as Oswald approached them, bedecked in one of his finest suits and brandishing his sword cane.

“By all means, don't let my presence stop you,” he said, pouring himself a tumbler of whiskey, “I'm enjoying the show.”

“You aren't going to join us?” Ed pouted.

“I'm content to watch,” he ran a sharp, enameled fingernail down Ed's brow and to the dimple in his chin, “It's also been a while since I've seen you be the submissive one.” 

“How do you know I won't hurt him?” Jim asked, the brutal edge in his tone masking his fear.

He grabbed Jim by the chin and forced him to look him in the eye, “If you wanted to, you would have already done so. Also, Edward isn't stupid. He wouldn't have made himself so vulnerable if he thought you would turn on him. So, I trust his judgment on the matter.”

Oswald kissed the corner of his eye, startling him for a moment with how soft it was against the persistent sensation of prickling needles on his skin. Jim watched as he sat down in the chair across from them— like a King on his thrown.

“Do continue,” he casually sipped at his whiskey, “I'm curious what you'll do.”

Jim wasted little time divesting Ed of his pants and briefs. The speed at which he moved made Ed squeak. Which, given Ed's more villainous demeanor as of late, made Jim's heart swell. It reminded him of the cute and quirky forensic tech. Ed tugged at the handcuffs and moaned loudly the moment Jim's mouth was on him.

He started at the navel, trailing his tongue down his abs and stopping every so often to nip at his flesh. The sound of Ed's blood rushing under his skin made Jim's cock twitch.

He hoisted one of Ed's legs over his shoulder so he could reach between Ed's cheeks and delighted in the gasp it elicited. He pulled back to take in the sight of him before diving back in and trailing his tongue all the way from his perineum up to the tip of his cock.

He lapped at him— hungry and animalistic. The sounds obscene and unfettered. He probed his tongue past the ring of muscle and worked him open. Ed's nails dug into the polished wood of the desk leg and left harsh, white lines in their wake.

Ed's moans filled the room and Jim could tell by the quivering of his legs and the way he bucked his hips that he was close. In a gesture not dissimilar to the one Ed had done back on Grundy Street, he pulled away and left Ed wanting. He let out a dejected groan at the loss of warmth and stimuli. 

Jim clawed up his torso and wrapped his hands around Ed's throat. His grip tightened as he pressed into him. Ed let out a shuddering exhale, his mouth agape and lips shiny. Jim could feel the muscle buckle under his grasp and watched as Ed's lips puckered and went pale from the lack of oxygen. He immediately loosened his grip when he felt like Ed was tipping over into unconsciousness and then slammed into him at a relentless pace before Ed could fully catch his breath.

To have something so delicate and fragile in the palm of his hand— willing and eager to be tormented and taken— was exhilarating. He'd deprived himself of the two men he cared for most for so long and he couldn't even fathom why. The virus made his choice so glaringly obvious. Like an alarm bell was ringing and the only way to make it stop would be to accept who he had been all along and fall into the tameless void after them.

Oswald, finally having had enough of just watching, walked over to the sofa. He dipped his fingers into the remnants of the whiskey in his glass before tracing a line over Ed's lip and into his mouth. Ed sucked the amber liquid from Oswald's fingers and moaned— the warm liquid mingling with the salty-sweet taste of his lover.

Jim watched as Oswald leaned over the edge of the sofa and drank in Edward's desperate moans. Each one tasting of pain and pleasure and acceptance. He saw how Ed winced with each thrust and it dawned on him he never actually used any lubricant and his hands had grasped so tightly at Ed's flesh that it was bruised— the vibrant mix of purple and maroon matching the Penguin's tie. He faltered in his lovemaking and stared at the marks he'd made. His brow pinched tightly in concern.

“D-Don't you dare stop,” Ed rolled his hips to meet Jim part way.

“I'm not hurting you?”

“Does it look like I'm complaining?” Ed thrust at the air with his neglected cock, the head purple, “God, don't leave me like this.”

Jim looked up at Oswald who just shrugged.

“Eddie likes it rough,” he smirked, “We have a safe word. Don't worry.”

Jim took that as his cue to continue. Though, this time he opted to wrap his hand around Ed's cock to stroke him in time with his thrusts. The song that Ed sang at that made all of the voices in Jim's head go quiet. Like it was a symphony designed to eliminate the turmoil in his mind.

Oswald got into position and teased Ed's mouth with his cock. Ed grinned and licked at the tip so generously offered to him. Jim growled at the display which only made him thrust harder. 

Ed was choking on Oswald's cock when he came. Jim wiped his hand across the back of the sofa to the protest of Oswald. Jim smirked, but continued thrusting into the tall brunette with abandon.

An unforeseen side effect of the virus seemed to be increased stamina. Luckily, none of them were complaining. Oswald made his way around the sofa and straddled Edward. Their cocks slotted together as the smaller man presented his backside. Jim hissed through his teeth when he saw the shimmering, purple plug.

Jim pulled at it ever so slightly before letting go and allowing it to slide back into place. Oswald moaned and rocked his hips. Jim did it a few more times before pulling the plug completely out and setting it aside. Oswald came fully prepared because there was a bottle of lubricant right within arm's reach.

He warmed the liquid in his hands before smearing it all over Oswald's backside and into his already stretched and eager hole. Jim crooked his fingers, immediately finding that spot he already knew so well, and preened at the sound it pulled from the Penguin.

Ed aligned his cock alongside Jim's fingers and, with some help, slowly pressed in. The sight made Jim's knees buckle. God, he missed this.

Jim's hands glided across Oswald's supple skin and settled on his hips as Ed thrusts into him. The sound of slapping skin and the sight of it all nearly sent Jim over the edge. He pulled out and watched as Oswald bounced up and down on his lover and called out his name. 

Suddenly, Jim felt that familiar burn around his eyes and all he wanted was for the Penguin to cry out in pain with his name on his tongue. Jim clawed down his back and tugged at his hair. Oswald gasped but allowed Jim to twist the mat of hair balled in his fist as he pushed Oswald forward, chest to chest with the writhing brunette below. His hands rested on the perfectly round mounds of Oswald's ass as he guided his still aching cock alongside Ed's.

Oswald, eager for what was to come, took a deep breath and slowly exhaled as he settled into the fullness of being penetrated by both of his loves.

All at once, Jim's blood boiled over and there was a siren in his ears. It washed over him as the virus took root in his gut and spread through him in a knotted brier— stinging like poisonous nettles under his skin. It's painful and decadent. Alluring and frightening. One more breath would spell the end for him and the version of him he had once known.

“I love you,” he heard himself say. The declaration nearly made him cry and it didn't take him long before he spilling over. Oswald's hand desperately grasped at his. They interlaced their fingers as Ed followed shortly after them.

As they cleaned themselves up, Oswald handed him a lush robe similar to the ones the two men of the household wore. This one was navy with silver and cobalt blue brocade. It looked new... like Oswald had purchased it just for him and it had been here waiting for him all this time.

Later, all clustered in a heap in the master bedroom, Jim rolled over in the moonlight and locked eyes with Edward. Oswald was soundly asleep between them.

“Ed,” Jim said, taking Ed's hand into his own and drawing him closer. He brought Ed's knuckles to his lips and kissed them. Then he kissed at the raw skin around his wrists leftover from the handcuffs, “I love you, too.”

Ed's eyes danced around his face like he was waiting for a joke to be announced. When nothing came of it, he smiled.

“I'd hoped as much,” his eyes shined.

The bellowing dark that bubbled just under the surface was far less daunting than it had been hours prior. The voices had quieted even though the virus still raged inside him. If he focused on the sensation, he could draw it out of him. The warmth spilling into his face but with far more control than he had previously. Perhaps Lee had been right and giving over to it wasn't as bad as it had once seemed. Before, when he tried to control those impulses, he would feel nothing but guilt and resentment. Even before the virus. But now, knowing that he was accepted and loved, made him feel oddly... content.

Edward gently snored in the dark, his fingers intertwined with Jim's and his other hand firmly nestled in Oswald's hair. Jim smiled and closed his eyes as he drifted off into the first restful sleep he'd had in years.


End file.
